A MENTAL JOURNEY
Michael Beel, one of New Zealand’s top hairdressers, has spent the last two decades transforming his clients. Last August, the 41-year-old applied the same philosophy to himself.
A fortnight before he underwent stomach reduction surgery, the co-owner and creative director of Wellington’s Buoy Salon and Spa was the biggest he had ever been, tipping the scales at 155 kilograms. He was used to being the largest person at fashion events, and used to shopping for clothes in the oversized clothing racks, or online at “fat’’ stores.
Since he was a young boy helping his father on a farm in Palmerston, in the South Island, Beel has been overweight. At school, he was nicknamed “Big Mike’’ or “Big Fella’’. Over the years, he became addicted to food in the same way that others are addicted to drugs or alcohol.
Several things changed his perspective last year. Beel’s father, who was also obese, suffered two strokes and two heart attacks, and had to be admitted to a hospital-care rest home at the age of 64. A friend suffered a pancreatic and diabetic coma which put him into ICU for a fortnight. Buoy salon’s founder, Derek Elvy, was diagnosed with incurable spinal cancer. He died last week.
“I turned 40 last year. I was 155 kilograms, the biggest I’ve ever been, and I decided that I needed to make a change,’’ he reyects. how good he looked. “But I wasn’t yet ready to tell people that I had undergone surgery.’’
Today, sitting in Buoy salon today with a hairdryer in one hand, 60 kilograms lighter than he was pre-surgery, he smiles: “It’s changed my life.’’
Beel recently returned from working at New York Fashion Week. Styling six shows over nine days, he says: “I felt incredible. I had so much energy.’’
In New York, he bounced into his favourite fashion stores and searched through the standard racks, returning home with an extra suitcase of clothes. The “circus-sized tent clothes’’ have been banished.
“The wrst time I went into Zara in Auckland, I pulled out a jacket and screamed, ‘Oh my God, it wts!’ I screamed and everyone looked. But for me, that’s such a big thing.’
“Yes, it’s wckle and it’s vain, but I work in the fashion industry, and I’m used to making people look the best they can be.’’ By far the biggest challenge has been a mental one. Beel’s shrunken stomach is now only capable of taking just three-quarters a cup of food at a time, three times a day. For a foodie who loves entertaining friends at the Petone home he shares with his partner, Sidney, that’s tough. “I’m a feeder, I love cooking up a storm. I’ve had 40 years of eating, and that’s the hardest thing to get my head around.’’
If he tries to eat fries – his favourite junk food – he feels ill.
However, Beel describes the surgery as “the best decision I’ve ever made, for my health and myself”.
For a start, everyone tells him how good he looks. His once puffy face is now chiselled.
Three mornings a week, he runs 6.5 kilometres – something he would never have dreamed imaginable, and often with his partner. “Running six steps to the fridge would have killed me before.’’
He goes to the gym three times a week, and follows a strict eating plan to ensure he gets nutrientrich food. While the weight has slowly dropped off over time to 92 kilograms, he has to watch his diet and exercise. “I could still get fat.”
According to the Ministry of Health, 478 obese people had publicly funded bariatric surgery last year – a number that’s risen steadily from 173 in 2008.
Beel is undergoing counselling to help with his food addiction.“It’s so easy for people to say, ‘You shouldn’t eat that, don’t eat that.’ But it’s an addiction. I’ve had the odd negative reaction, of people suggesting on social media that I’ve taken the easy way out.’’
He agrees with the current calls for a sugar tax. “We are an obese country. Food has become so available and so processed. You can walk out here now and get sushi, dumplings, a burger. If they’re going to load a drink with 20 teaspoons of sugar, they should pay for it.’’